Prowl scowled in annoyance at the mech on his desk. Said mech simply grinned cheekily back at him. “Jazz,” he growled.
The grin grew wider as he responded. “Yes, Prowler?” he drawled, causing Prowl’s scowl to deepen.
“Get. Off. My. Desk.”
“No.”
Prowl’s doorwings twitched in repressed fury, signaling he was seconds from literally booting the third in command off his desk, out of his office and down the hall. Wouldn’t be his first time doing it either. “Get. Off.”
“No. You stress too much.”
Twitch. “You stress me too much.”
“Aw, thank you!”
“Wasn’t a compliment. Shoo.”
“I have a better idea. Let me relax you.”
Twitch twitch. “I’ll relax if you go away.
“C’mon, I got you a present.”
TWITCH. “Would your present be you leaving me to get my work done? You’re annoying me.”
“No. It’s this.” Jazz leaned forward and captured Prowl’s lips with his own.
Spastic flutter. Prowl relaxed almost instantly. He hadn’t realised how much he needed the small distraction until it was dropped on him.
“Feel better, Prowler?” Jazz teased.
“A bit. Would you like to know what would make me feel even better?” he countered.
“Yes, I would.”
Prowl grabs Jazz by the hips, slips him off his desk and onto his lap. “Get off my desk, let me work and you can keep me company.”
Jazz grinned giddily, snuggling into the SIC. “I’m more than happy to keep you company, Prowler.”
"You're never gonna stop calling me that, are you?"
"Nope! Love you too much."
With a sigh, Prowl kissed the top of his helm. "Love you too, Jazz."
